


To Stand Together

by Shadadukal



Series: Ignite The Stars [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:57:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadadukal/pseuds/Shadadukal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How a secret bound between Loki & Sif was formed. It all began with cake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is strictly movie-verse. I'm using elements from the mythology & comics as I see fit though but expect no compliance for these.
> 
> Thanks to jenlet for test-reading this! All remaining mistakes are my own.

Sif glared at the dark-haired prince from between the few strands of her golden hair that had escaped their bound and now fell against her forehead. If it weren't for the Allfather's presence, she would be cursing at him. But as it were, the great Odin himself was supervising the punishment he had devised for his younger son and the warrior-maiden.

"You need to learn collaboration," his powerful voice had boomed in the throne room.

Presently, the pages of the fragile-looking book that lay on the table before them turned on their own, or rather at the command of Loki's magic, who was glaring right back at her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"This one," he said pointedly.

"No," she replied just as coolly, turning the delicate pages back to their previous place.

They had been at it for a while now, unable to even agree on the first step towards fulfilling their punishment. A soft sound came from the entrance to the room, Queen Frigga coming to stand by her husband. They exchanged a glance.

"Loki, Sif," the King began, turning his attention back to them, "there will be no desserts served in my halls until you two have managed to bake a cake, _together_."

At first, the punishment had seemed easy to Sif. Having to bake a cake with Loki, that couldn't be so hard. However, she had found it unfair. As far as she was concerned, the troubles they had found themselves in while on their excursion with Thor and other young warriors had been entirely Loki's fault. The Allfather, however, hadn't seen it that way. According to him, they wouldn't have needed Thor's timely intervention to save them if only they had collaborated together.

The King left the kitchen, frowning as he turned around. Queen Frigga remained where she stood, looking at Sif and her son warmly.

"It's entirely your fault," Loki hissed, drawing Sif's eyes back to him.

"My fault? My fault?! How can it be my fault when it was you who..."

"Children," the Queen interrupted her, her gaze encompassing Loki. "Arguing will not solve your trouble." 

Sif chafed at being called a child. Of course, the Queen was far older than she but Sif was now old enough to have recently taken her warrior's oath, and to be fitted with proper armour, now that she had stopped growing.

"Sif insists on baking a cake with fruit in it!" Loki complained.

This made Sif realized that his previous accusation was about their current predicament rather than the mess that had gotten them in it.

"They're easier!" she replied. Seeing as neither of them had any experience at baking, it was a good strategy to go for one of the easiest cakes.

Loki narrowed his eyes at her, before sliding them towards the page she had opened the book at. He considered the recipe for a few moments, biting his lower lip in the most distracting of manners, but it was nothing compared to the heat that pooled low in her belly when he licked his lips pensively.

"Fine, we'll do this one," he conceded.

"Why?" she said, suspicious at his going with her idea.

"Sif, if we don't bake something, there'll be no dessert at the feast tonight, and I don't think the nobles of my Father's court will take kindly to that."

He had a point. And the court wasn't friendly towards either of them: she, the woman who had fought for the right to be a warrior, and he, the prince who preferred the magical arts to taking up a sword – like his older brother Thor, favourite prince of Asgard by far.

"You have a point," she said, relenting.

*  
In the end, it took them two disastrous first attempts before their third proved to be something edible. The Allfather nodded at them upon tasting the cake when he checked on the completion of their punishment. 

After the King left, the kitchen staff started to prepare dessert for the evening's feast and the two of them were asked to step aside, the plate holding their cake placed in Loki's hands in dismissal.

"I have no desire to go to the feast tonight," Loki said

"Me neither," Sif agreed.

"Come with me then," Loki said. 

Sif inclined her head but it wasn't long before she nodded, too curious to refuse. She followed Loki through hallways and corridors she wasn't sure existed but at Loki's command. They ended up in a secluded corner of the garden, rays of warm light filtering through silver green leaves, the soft delicate perfume of flowers pleasing in the air. Loki sat down on a bench, leaning against the golden wall of the palace, setting the plate near him. 

"I think there's enough here for us to easily forego dinner, don't you think?" he said, gesturing at their cake.

She simply sat down on the other side of the plate, pulling a small dagger from a hidden sheath at the small of her back. Loki's eyebrows rose at the sight.

"You're full of surprises, my lady."

She grinned dangerously at him, cutting a few slices of cake.

*

Later, once they had eaten all the cake and Sif felt as if she might burst, they laid down on the grass, looking up at the stars that had started to appear as the night quickly fell.

"Father is right," Loki said after a while.

Sif said nothing, simply waiting for him to continue. She had learnt as a child that patience was better to get answers out of Loki, if you wanted answers that were at least half true, rather than outright lies.

"If we don't learn to work with our different skill sets, to pay attention to others' gifts, we'll never stand together, and that might kill us someday."

"Not trusting in your fellow warrior is dishonourable."

"I'm not a warrior," Loki said softly.

Sif raised herself on her elbows and turned to look at him.

"You fight. You go to war with us. You're a warrior, even if magic is your weapon. Just as I am a warrior, but also still a woman."

Loki rolled onto his side, his head held up by his hand.

"I would never forget that." His voice was a mere whisper, his gaze burning as he looked up at her.

Sif knew that. She had seen it in his gaze more than once. Loki was the only one who saw the warrior and the woman both. Made bold by the night and an afternoon of toiling together in unusual unknown tasks, she leaned forward and kissed him. He sucked in a breath in surprise, before returning the pressure of her lips. The angle was too awkward for her to deepen the kiss though. She pulled back, frustrated.

"Can we go somewhere else?" she said, uncaring of the demand in her voice.

Loki blinked and nodded, rising quickly, then extending his hand to her. She had no need of it, but took it anyway. He didn't relinquish her hand once she was up. Once more, they travelled the palace through passages that were either secret or of Loki's own making. Unconsciously, Sif caressed Loki's hand with her thumb and he squeezed her hand back in response. 

They emerged from a narrow corridor in a brightly lit hallway and Sif knew this to be an actual place in the palace. The door Loki took her through was one that led to a room she hadn't been in since she was a child: his own chambers. She looked around as Loki finally released her hand so as to close the door behind them. 

The room was pure chaos: books piled everywhere, arcane objects having found places wherever it was possible in between. The only thing in his room not overrun with heavy volumes and magical artefacts was his bed, nestled in an alcove farthest from the door. She wondered if perhaps the mess was meant as obstacles for a would-be assailant who would try to make his way to Loki's bed in the night.

There was a burst of green light behind her and suddenly, there was a roaring fire where previously there was none, casting warmth and light in Loki's chambers.

"That's such a handy skill," Sif said, as ever fascinated for Loki's affinity with lighting fires magically. She stepped around a book, advancing further into the room.

"I'm sorry for the mess," he said and, for once, he did look it, right up into his eyes.

"Don't be," she said warmly. "It's very you." And it was. She had never spared many thoughts about how Loki's chambers might have evolved as he grew but this fitted him. For all the chaos, an innate elegance remained in the room.

Sif moved towards the bed. She didn't want to give him a false impression, unsure she wanted to take things that far on this night, but there were simply no other places to be in his room. Loki followed her, a step behind her.

Sif sat down on the green velvet coverlet, near the pillows. Loki sat beside her, his hands curled together in his lap, seemingly hesitant. It was a rare thing to see the second prince thus. She felt pride, pride that she could make him lose his composure, but more importantly, pride that he trusted her enough to let her see.

Despite her reservations, she moved to straddle his thighs and leaned forward to kiss him again. Once more, Loki was surprised at her forwardness but he recovered quickly. She felt his hands on her hips, his touch tentative, almost asking for permission. With her own hands, she pressed his against her body, before moving her own hands up, one resting against his chest, the other on the back of his head so he couldn't escape the kiss. 

Sif took her time exploring Loki's mouth with her tongue, pushing against his in a battle for dominance – she won – sucking and biting at his lips. Their chests were pressed together and, hard where she pushed down against him, she felt the evidence of Loki's arousal. But despite her own desire pulsing in her veins, she knew, deep in her heart, that it wasn't what she desired of Loki the most in this moment. She pulled back and Loki let her go, a frown on his face.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, his hand leaving the small of her back where it had burrowed under her layers of clothing to find a sliver of bare skin.

"No! No, you didn't," she quickly reassured him. Taking a deep breath, she asked: "Loki, will you do something for me?"

"Anything," he breathed.

And in that instant, she knew he meant it, meant it fully with every fibre of his being.

"Please cut my hair."

"Huh?" 

Sif laughed merrily at the sight of his puzzled face and at his unusual lack of words. She took his face between her hands. "Loki Odinson, _I_ want _you_ to cut my hair. Please cut it all off."

It took him a few deep breaths before he nodded his acquiescence. 

"Then let us go into the bathing chamber." She got off him, marching determinedly to the low door near the bed that opened onto said chamber.

Loki followed behind her, conjuring a stool for her to sit on in front of the tall large mirror. 

"How short do you want it?" he asked as she sat down. 

"As short as you can make it." Her voice sounded firm to her ears, and hopefully to his as well. She was glad that he didn't ask if she was sure. Not because she might have changed her mind if pressed – she never did before – but because he trusted her to know her own mind, because he respected her choices.

Loki took a small silver knife to her hair, first cutting the length of it, golden strands falling all around them. Then more carefully, he cropped her hair close to her skull. When he was done, he looked up and their eyes met in the mirror. Sif took in the image of her sitting, with Loki standing behind her, hands on her shoulder. 

"Shave the rest," she said, her voice cold. War took all; it had no mercy. Loki inclined his head, respect at her request. He moved away from her to where he kept some effects, came back with a sharper blade.

"Stay still," he told her.

And she did. She thought she didn't even breathe as she was reborn. But she must have for Loki worked carefully, slowly, his hand sure, never once nicking her skin. And then her skull was bare.

"How do I look?" she asked him, voice steel cold and even.

"All grown up," he said, and there was no jest in voice at the pronouncement.

She nodded.

"And ridiculous too," Loki added with a mischievous grin.

Sif smiled back at him in the mirror because she really did look ridiculous. She had needed to shear the maiden away though, to leave only the warrior. She stood, and started to remove her attire.

"Sif?" 

"Take your clothes off too. Let's take a bath."

Loki's eyebrows rose but he didn't ask any question, lazily waved his hand at the huge sunken tub, instantly filling it with warm fragrant water, and started to disrobe as well.

She was quicker than him, sliding into the water as he stood with still only his chest bare. Sif dunk her head under the water, running her hands over her smooth, oh so smooth skull. She blinked water out of her eyes as she surfaced. Loki was looking at her even as he removed his boots. His hair was falling across his shoulders; already mussed up by her hand earlier, it now rebelled at the humid heat in the air. Loki's chest was all hard planes and lean muscles. He didn't look like a warrior, she thought, but he had an elegance no warrior could hope to match. 

She throbbed at the sight of his returning arousal. She moved away from him when he slid down into the water and he followed, a grin on his face. He cornered her and she went on the offensive herself in response, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, drawing him into a heated kiss. His hands on her body were less tentative than before, more reminiscent of his confidence as he cut her hair or of the sureness of his hands as he had applied salve on her back that time she had been wounded on an excursion, where the rest of their friends had been embarrassed, embarrassed at this reminder that she was a woman. Thor and the Warriors Three saw her as a comrade and a sister she knew. Most other warriors felt that she needed to be brought down a peg for her arrogance, for daring to be a warrior. And women shook their heads at her, murmuring as she passed them, pity in their eyes. But Loki saw her completely. Being naked in front of him was nothing when she always felt bare before his eyes. So she kissed him with all the passion that she felt for him, all the desire for his uniqueness that matched her own, all the gratefulness for the respect he afforded her without ever making a show of it.

Sif ran her hands down his chest, exploring the contours of hard muscles, lips still locked with his. Loki slid his hands to her front, cupping her breasts, flicking her nipples with his thumbs. She gasped into his mouth and, quite involuntarily, bore down against him. He moaned her name in response and she felt power, a power not unlike the one she felt when fighting and besting a worthy opponent.

She pulled back, staring at him. He looked almost lost and confused, returning her gaze through half-lidded eyes. She would never find better than him, not any time soon at any rate. And so she reached down and Loki groaned when she took him in hand. It was easy to run her hand up and down his length, exerting some pressure. She didn't want her touch to be hesitant and, judging by the pleased noises Loki was making, that was the right thing to do.

"Sif, Sif, Sif, Sif, Sif," he chanted. He opened his eyes fully, his gaze feverish, and stopped the movement of her hand. "You have to stop." 

She raised an eyebrow at him because it had looked as if he'd be enjoying it and she couldn't understand why he wanted her to stop.

"Have you ever..." he began.

"Yes, of course I have!" But as she could hear the lie in her own voice, there was no doubt Loki could.

"Me neither," he replied. And his tone was even and she couldn't tell whether he was lying. But it didn't matter. Loki would never brag that he'd been the one to have her first; he was too private for that. And he knew that she knew that she would never tell about this. So he might be telling the truth. Of course, the way his fingers stroke between her legs, eerily finding the spots that brought her the most pleasure seem to belie that notion. Loki slipped a finger insider her while still keeping sure caresses with his thumb. She dug her fingers in his shoulders. He flinched but said nothing, simply added a second finger inside her. This time, she bit her lower lip to keep from screaming at what his fingers were doing to her. There was a pressure rising inside her, pressure that she didn't know how to escape, but she felt sure the answer resided with Loki and so she pushed against his hand. He murmured something she couldn't understand and quickened his movements.

The pressure became almost unbearable and she was lost in a sea of pleasure, boneless and panting against the side of Loki's neck. He caressed her back with both his hands, soothing her as her heartbeat calmed down. When had he removed his hands from between her legs? She mouthed at his neck, sucking on his skin. His arousal was pressed between them, hot and hard. He did nothing for himself, simply held her and so she moved, moved back and reached down for him to guide him where his fingers had been before.

"Are you sure?" Loki asked, though he did nothing to stop her. 

Sif didn't answer and locked eyes with him as she lowered himself on him. She felt herself stretch around him, her body working to accommodate something much larger than two of his fingers. It stung a bit, but it was nothing compared to the wounds she had already suffered in battle. She felt dizzy though, and realised she was holding her breath. She exhaled and Loki took that as a signal, starting to rock his hips up against her. Water sloshed around them and over the side of the tub, but neither she nor Loki cared. It felt better, with him moving, a look on concentration on his face. She leaned forward to kiss him, wanting him to relax. He let her dominate the kiss as he sped up his movement, his hands around her hips in an iron grip. She rocked in time with his thrusts and he gasped her name, holding her down against him as he stopped moving and she felt a rush of heat inside her.

Loki's hair was a mess and his face the least composed Sif'd ever seen. She grinned, the sight as heady as scoring a victory on the battlefield. Loki grinned back, running his hands up and down her sides. She kissed him, again, slowly, deliberately. Once more, he let her have control of the kiss and she nipped lightly at his lip in thanks.

"Sif, I..." he began, then seemed to hesitate before continuing in a rush. "I did a spell so we can be certain you won't get pregnant." She nodded her thanks. Aesir women didn't conceive easily, as was the case for most long-lived races but it was better to be safe than sorry. She had no intention of having a child so young, if ever.

The water was still warm, probably because it had been spelled so by Loki but her skin was starting to wrinkle on her fingertips. She rose, Loki slipping from her body and he made a noise of protest. 

"I'm starting to prune here," Sif said by way of explanation as she got out of the water, right into a puddle on the side of the tub. "We've sure made a mess," she said, grinning happily. Loki turned his head to look over the side of the tub. He hummed noncommittally but rose as well. With a frown and a wave of his hand, all the water in the room disappeared, including the droplets dotting their skin.

"Do you have to use magic for everything?" she said, annoyed. Loki looked puzzled for the blink of an eye before he smirked at her.

"It saves time," he said.

"Time for what?"

"This." And she found herself in his arms, her mouth being plundered by his, and it felt so good that she couldn't blame him for distracting her from the point she wanted to make. His skin was warm from the water, feeling so good against her own. But she was tired; it had been a long day after all. 

Loki seemed to sense her fatigue. "Shall we retire to bed?" Sif nodded, glad for the invitation to stay rather than having to back to her own chambers.

Loki curled up behind her, holding her to him under the heavy velvets covers, his mouth leaving light kisses on her shoulder blade. 

"Good night, Loki," she whispered as sleep took her.


	2. Chapter 2

Sif woke up suddenly at a loud crash and a booming voice calling "Loki!" The prince in question put his hand over her mouth and whispered in her ear: "Don't move and don't make a noise."

There were more loud noises, what sounded like piles of books falling over – she felt Loki stiffen behind her – before the bed curtains were pulled open. Thor stood, looking at the bed unhappily. Then he sighed loudly and let the curtain fall. 

Sif heard the door close a few moments later and Loki released her with a relieved sigh.

"What happened? Thor didn't see us, did he?"

"Of course not! I imagine he would have caused quite a racket if he'd found us in bed together. I made him see the illusion of an empty unmade bed," Loki said, looking smug.

Sif hit his shoulder to wipe the satisfied grin off his face. "You should probably go somewhere where he'll find you." Loki raised an eyebrow at her, clearly questioning why he should do such a thing.

"Come spar with me. We need to learn how to collaborate on the battlefield." She could see the hesitation on his face before he agreed.

She slipped out of bed, going to the bathing chamber to retrieve her garments. Loki followed her, offering to spell them clean and slightly different so that no one knew she hadn't returned to her chambers that night. She acquiesced, and started getting dressed once he was done working his magic.

"Do you want me to spell your hair back?"

"No, people need to see this."

"They won't be kind," he warned. This she knew, but she wouldn't shy away.

*

On the training grounds, Sif gave Loki no quarter and he fought back equally fiercely, sending knives magically flying at her. When the Three arrived, before they had time to comment on her hair, or lack thereof, without a word or a glance passing between them, Sif and Loki launched a two-pronged attack at them, and the fight was on. She remained aware of Loki, compensating for his weaknesses, just as he was clearly doing for her.

There had been no sign of Thor all morning when they finally decided to break off and have a bite to eat, Volstagg declaring he could really do with two wild boars.

"Have you seen Thor today?" Sif enquired.

"He wasn't even at breakfast!" Volstagg said.

"Sif, I really must ask, what happened to your hair?" That was Fandral, of course. "Was there an accident in the kitchen yesterday?" And at that, his gaze slid briefly towards Loki.

She wasn't sure whether she imagined the flicker of annoyance in Loki's eyes. She glared at Fandral but before she could think of a reply, Hogun cleared his throat and inclined his head outside of their circle. Sif followed the direction of his eyes and saw Thor striding towards them, a genial smile on his face.

"Brother, I've been looking for you all over."

"And now, you've found me," Loki quipped.

"You must have been looking in all the wrong places," Sif said. "Loki's been here all morning."

"Why were you looking for me, brother?"

"To spar, brother!"

"I'm afraid I've had enough for today and my books beckon. Some other time, Thor."

Loki left quickly, causing Thor to turn towards them dejectedly. When his eyes alighted on her, they went round and big. "Sif! What happened to your hair?"

Her only reply was to attack him with her sword. 

*

Sif was asked that question a lot during the course of the day, and sadly didn't have the luxury to attack every last of those people with her sword. Mostly, she just glared at them. She was done explaining herself to people wanting to cage her.

She didn't see Loki for the rest of the day and he wasn't at dinner either. A part of her felt uncertainty at the situation, but the bigger part of her, the part that was a warrior, decided it didn't matter so she retired to her chambers without seeking Loki out.

During the night, she was awoken by a knock on her door. Judging by the embers still glowing in the fireplace, it hadn't been long since she fell asleep. Grasping a knife, she went to the door. 

"Who is it?" she asked without opening it.

"It's me." 

"You're lucky I know your voice," she told Loki as she opened the door. He slipped in easily and turned back to look at her. She closed the door carefully so as not to make a noise.

"How are you?" he asked her. She frowned. She was fine, why wouldn't she be fine? She told him as much.

"Your hair..."

"Oh. Well, I didn't kill anyone though I thought about it every time someone asked me about it."

"Now that they've seen, do you want me to spell it back?"

She had achieved what she wanted, shown the whole of Asgard that she rejected fully the part of maiden. It would be easier to get her hair back through magic than wait long years for her to have it as before.

Sif stepped close to him, one hand on his chest and with the other one, she brought his head down for a kiss. Once more, she took him by surprise but as before, he lost no time in returning the kiss. 

"Was that a yes or a no?" he asked after they broke apart, panting a little.

"Yes, Loki, spell my hair back."

"Do you always wear a dagger to bed?" he asked, his hand over the blade she had slipped into her waistband.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she said, striving to give nothing away.

Loki grinned at her, then closed his eyes in concentration. Sif felt a prickling sensation on her skull and then the weight of her hair was present once more. Loki opened his eyes and there was shock in them.

"What? What is it?"

"Your hair... I don't know what went wrong, Sif, I swear I don't," he said quickly.

She stalked to the mirror. Instead of golden waves, her hair was now smooth and dark, not dissimilar to Loki's own. It was so different. However, she thought that it suited her better, that it truly reflected who she was.

"It's all right, Loki. This," and she waved a hand around her head, "is what it should be."

Loki inclined his head, still uncertain. She turned from the mirror to actually face him and once more she kissed him hard. And even as she did so, she walked backwards in the direction of her bed.

This time, they explored each other's bodies with lips and tongue as well as hands. Sif was surprised at the sharp pleasure she felt when Loki's mouth was on her breast, his tongue almost rough against her nipple. But that was nothing compared with the bliss of his tongue between her legs. She wanted to keep him there forever and he struggled to get free of her legs as she tried to get her breath back. Her throat felt sore. Had she screamed? Loki was grinning at her, his chin and lips shining in the low light.

Sif kicked him in the hip because he looked far too happy and she had plans for him. She pushed him down on his back and straddled him, sinking onto him. This time, it was easier, but she still waited a bit before she started to move, bracing her hands on his chest. Witnessing Loki lose his composure as she sped up was such a thrill. She squeezed her inner muscles and Loki made an incomprehensible noise in response. It might have been her name. 

"Come on, Loki," she said, wanting to see him lose it. But it could never be so easy with him and he reached between her legs and she faltered. She swore and he simply laughed, rocking up against her. She clenched around him again in revenge, even as he teased her once more. He lost it first, filling her with warmth, but she felt magic brush against her skin and followed him in bliss.

"What was that?" she panted against his chest, where she'd fallen, boneless.

"What was what?"

"You did magic!" She couldn't help the accusatory tone in her voice.

"Did you... not like it?" he said, and she could hear the careful frown in his voice.

"That's not the point. It's... cheating!"

And that was of course entirely the wrong thing to say to him. He rolled them over, slipping from her body in the process. He was wearing his most mischievous grin from inches above her.

"There is nothing you can do to stop me from cheating."

Whether it was a threat or a promise, she felt both the desire to strangle him and kiss him senseless. This time, she settled for the latter.


	3. Epilogue

Sif wasn't sure how it happened but, over the months that followed people started to blame her new hair on Loki, saying that he was the one who had cut off her hair, because he blamed her for Odin's punishment they had been assigned, and then failed to restore her hair properly, that it was why Sif battled him so fiercely on the training grounds. She refused to say anything on the matter. Sometimes, she wondered if Loki had been the one to start the rumour. When he was asked whether he had cut off her hair, whether he had then restored it black, his reply was negative. If she hadn't known he was lying, for it was a lie after a fashion, she would have thought he was telling the truth. However, no one believed him. Centuries cemented that into truth in people's mind and had Sif come out and revealed Loki had cut her hair at her request, she knew she wouldn't be believed.

Everybody thought they hated each other, even when they stood together in battle, covering for each other, perfectly in synch. No one ever saw the truth. When Sif glared at Loki across the table in the feast halls, it was actually because he was using magic to arouse her rather than to express displeasure at some imagined prank. And the way she made him pay for it was something he enjoyed thoroughly. No one suspected the truth of their relationship. True, they were careful as they stole kisses in shadowed alcoves, when they slipped in and out of each other's rooms. Sometimes she thought Hogun suspected, but if he did, he never brought up the topic.

Sif couldn't fathom why everyone thought she was in love with Thor. The Thunderer himself had told her she was like a sister. She felt the same. Thor was the brother she didn't have. She didn't think she would ever be his sister in truth. She felt no inclination in her heart to marry Loki. War walked alone, and so did Mischief, though they loved one another. Sif had never told him so, not once in all the centuries they had been lovers but she hoped he knew. She thought he loved her too. She knew better than to ask. Still he didn't always mask his feelings around her. And he made cake for her. It had become their private joke. When he had first baked one after their punishment, in a room she rather thought he conjured, she simply told him not to set the palace on fire as she polished her knives. She didn't bake anything for him. But she listened to his jealous grievances against Thor, though it hurt her, and when she couldn't put up with it anymore, she shut him up. He never said no to that.


End file.
